As she withdrew her hands from her face she heard the giant's voice, very much subdued, speaking to her. "Ned says not to despair, for he feels sure that his little friend, the bluebird, will yet find a way to liberate us all." THE MAGIC BALLOON Ned leaves the Magic Soap Bubble. [Illustration] THE MAGIC BALLOON GREAT was the grief of the little bluebird as she skimmed over the waters of the moat, realizing how impossible it was for her to regain the lost ring. She had not the heart for the moment to return to the castle to inform Ned of his loss; so she perched herself disconsolately on a bush which grew close to the margin of the moon-lit water, wondering what was best to do. Suddenly the speckled trout rose to the surface, and, seeing how despondent was the pretty bluebird, inquired the cause of her grief. "Ah, me!" she sighed in answer. "I have lost a magic gold ring, and I know not what to do, nor how to recover it." At this the speckled trout flapped his silvery tail gleefully, and answered: "Worry no more, pretty bluebird, for I have it safely tucked away inside of me." "If that be the case, Sir Trout," joyously chirped the happy bird, "swim at your greatest speed and deliver the ring to her majesty, the Waterfall Fairy, Queen of the Lake. Tell her that Ned, her little mortal friend, is in dire peril and that he needs her aid." "That will I gladly do," answered the speckled trout, and without more delay he darted off down the moat toward the dam at the farther side, over which the water ran in a clear stream into the purling brook, which finally led to the lake, where lived Ned's friend, the Fairy Queen. Down the silvery cascade he glided and whirled away through the running water, frightening the minnows and miller's thumbs lying among the stones in the shallow places, and startling the crawfishes and little fresh water lobsters hidden under the hollow banks. Faster and faster he swam, like a courier with important dispatches, down the clear stream running over its pebbly bed, with the luscious meadow sweet and the large blue geranium blooming all about its banks, and the wild rose on its bushes. Nor did he pause until with a loud splash he dived over the waterfall safely into the lake and rose to the surface close to the palace of the Queen of the Lake. A big black spider was busily at work mending the suspension bridge which spanned the water at this narrow point, for the heavy drops of dew had broken the slender strands in several places. He stopped his work to look at the speckled trout, who at once addressed him. "I am the bearer of a most important dispatch for her highness," he began. "Well, and I am engaged in the most important duty of repairing her highness' bridge," replied the spider. "So, I see," answered the trout, "but----" At this very moment the Queen herself, hearing voices at so early an hour outside her window, peeped out. Catching sight of her the trout called out boldly: